Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Sixty-One
Morning light sliding into the room.
I’m going to believe that filling my cup halfway with regular coffee and halfway with hot water is the same as having decaf.
Leftover chili.
She asks me if I know who the dog belongs to. And, of course I do because she’s always running loose. I take her back home. Kona is her name.
College mail.
Whatever that cough is, it sounds like she’s about to give up a lung.
I show her how to know if an email is from a scammer. After all, the name did say “John Doe.”
I always want one more day.
Reminding myself that I can just follow the plan. It doesn’t all have to be figured out roday.
Okay, okay. I’ll eat some key lime pie.
